


there's a mountaintop (that i'm dreaming of)

by kouzaires



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: #ThankYouFurudate, #ThankYouHaikyuu, Aged-Up Character(s), Gen, Haikyuu!! Chapter 402, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, POV Outsider, Post-Time Skip, just hinata being awesome tbh, this is my love letter to this amazing series!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25400527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kouzaires/pseuds/kouzaires
Summary: When Hinata makes the decision to leave Japan and pursue beach volleyball, it's met with a little bit of skepticism and a whole lot of shock.But Hinata knows what he's doing. Slowly, everyone else comes to realize that as well.(Nine times Hinata surprised the world, one time he surprised himself, and one time when there wasn't any surprise at all)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Everyone, Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 41
Kudos: 460
Collections: oh YES





	there's a mountaintop (that i'm dreaming of)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ["Shotgun" by George Ezra](https://youtu.be/aAiVsqfbn5g) since it just seemed fitting. Also, I wrote this while blasting the entire show's OST and wow I'm crying.
> 
> I'd like to thank my friend for beta-reading this piece and also crying over the finale with me. Check out their awesome [Haikyuu!! fanart](https://mobile.twitter.com/patchypeach_/status/1285024090202365953) on Twitter!
> 
> So this is basically a mixture of canon and my interpretation of what went on behind all that. Whether this series has been a major aspect of your life for the last few years like me, or even for just a few weeks, I hope that you enjoyed the journey just as much as I did. Without further ado, please enjoy my heartfelt goodbye to my first and favorite anime!

_**(1)** _

“Training… on the beach?” Ukai echoes, absolutely flabbergasted. His eyebrows have gone all the way up to his hairline, and he blinks once—no, _twice_ —just to make sure he isn’t imagining things. “You mean, beach volleyball?”

The overhead lights inside the Sakanoshita Store flicker, seemingly in response. From the corner of his eye, he can see the sky outside the window getting darker with each passing minute.

When Hinata had asked to speak with him after practice, Ukai had been expecting… well, not _this_ , that’s for sure. Maybe some team strategies, or a talk about the new first years, or at least something _normal_ like that.

But _beach volleyball?_

His hand twitches at his side. God, he could use a cigarette right about now.

Hinata leans forward in his seat, laying down all sorts of sports magazines on the table before them. “Last year, at the rookie training camp, those two-on-two drills really got me thinking. ‘Cause when there are only two people on the court, you gotta know how to do everything by yourself.”

Ukai sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know this is a major decision, right? I’m not even sure if you can train like that here in Japan. And moving abroad... that’s gonna be big.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence, and it hangs in the air. But when Hinata looks up, it’s with a fierce sort of determination that sends Ukai reeling. The kid’s eyes bore into his, and Ukai gets a glimpse of the Hinata whom most people hardly ever see. This is the Hinata who stares up at all sorts of players taller and stronger than him and vows to defeat them, against all odds. The one who then goes above and beyond to defy all human logic and fulfill that promise.

“Yeah, I know. But I really want—no, I _need_ to do this,” Hinata pleads earnestly. He’s sitting still for once in his life, and there’s an uncharacteristic seriousness in the way he’s holding himself. 

Still, Ukai has to be sure. “Are you sure you’re ready for that responsibility?” he asks, staring Hinata down.

Hinata just nods once, the motion stiff but unrelenting.

For a moment, Ukai remembers himself, back in the Karasuno Gym all those years ago. He remembers the frustration of being on the bench, of seeing something he so desperately wanted but could never have.

But right now, this boy before him… he has the opportunity to reach his _own_ goals. Right now, Ukai has a choice—to help Hinata grow or keep his wings tethered down to the earth.

He looks at Hinata again— _really_ looks at him—and this time, he doesn’t actually see the high school boy who gets into more trouble than he should. Instead, Ukai sees the sheer potential of this kid, the player he could become, if he were only given the chance.

And honestly, who’s Ukai to deny him that?

“…Okay,” he says, after a long, painstaking few seconds. “Let’s check out our options.”

Hinata brightens immediately, eyes sparkling as he reverts back to his usual self. “Thanks, Coach!” he shouts, jumping up from his seat and slamming his palms on the table. In his rush, the chair behind him gets knocked back a few feet, and he scrambles to pick it back up, stammering out apologies along the way.

Ukai rubs the back of his neck, feeling the headache coming in already. He’s got a lot of calls to make now, starting with _that_ old codger.

But if they manage to do this right… Ukai can’t help but grin at the thought. This boy’s going to be a force to be reckoned with.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(2)** _

Pedro hates his new roommate.

For the record, he’s not a very fussy person by nature. Of course he knew he was getting into, sharing a flat with a complete stranger. He knew that the person could be creepy or weird or just plain annoying, and Pedro was prepared for all of that already. (And also this was the only decent place in his price zone so that may have swayed his decision a little bit.)

But man, Shouyou’s the kind of person Pedro absolutely _despises_.

First of all, the guy’s a foreigner, and his Portuguese sucks. The language barrier alone is a major thing in its own right. But even if it’s hard to understand Shouyou sometimes, Pedro doesn’t mind it so much, really. Him being Japanese isn’t the problem here.

The problem lies with Shouyou himself.

The guy’s a _sports junkie_. His room is filled with all sorts of volleyball gear, and every day, without fail, he wakes up at crazy o’clock in the morning to _exercise_ or something. And Pedro’s a light sleeper, so he just has to deal with hearing the ruckus every time, pressing his pillows against his ears in a vain attempt to block out the sounds coming from the kitchen. Like, can’t the guy make his breakfast just a _little_ quieter?

Shouyou runs around the flat like some kind of hyperactive puppy, making casual conversation with Pedro every time there’s an opportunity. Pedro wonders where he even gets the energy, between his volleyball games and his part-time job that involves _biking around town_.

The very idea of it all makes Pedro shudder, shaking his head furiously. He never really liked those intense jock types in the first place, and that’s exactly what this guy is.

So no, he doesn’t like Shouyou at all. But he’s stuck with him for two years, so Pedro just has to suck it up and deal with it.

It’s been working so far, sort of. Shouyou’s still pretty weird, but all Pedro really has to do is put on his earphones and give monosyllabic answers to everything he says. But even so, there are just some days when it all becomes too much to handle.

So today, Pedro’s bringing out the big guns.

Inside his room, he pulls out a book from his shelf with careful motions, so as not to damage anything unnecessarily. When he looks down at his hands and sees the cover of One Piece volume 72 staring back at him, he feels like all his troubles just… float away.

Smiling to himself, he fishes out his earphones and sets his favorite playlist on shuffle as he settles in the dining table. Then, he cracks open his book to the place where he last left it and lets himself get lost in the action-packed adventure, and it’s exactly what he’s been needing after all these weeks of stress. Pedro reads and reads, eager to get back in the groove of the story. Between the music blasting in his ears and the pristine book in his hands, Pedro doesn’t even notice the hours ticking by.

After a while, he hears some shuffling in the background, along with a muffled voice. Shouyou must be home then. Pedro frowns. He doesn’t particularly want to talk to the guy anyway, so he decides to just ignore him and move on with his manga.

So when his roommate practically dives into the seat in front of him a minute later, Pedro starts. He looks up from his book with wide eyes, one earbud falling out with the motion.

Shouyou looks more frantic than usual, meeting his eyes with some wild intensity. Confused, Pedro opens his mouth to ask what on earth he’s doing, but then—

“Who’s your favorite? Mine’s Zolo.” Shouyou asks, in his heavily accented Portuguese. He holds up a very familiar-looking book, and Pedro can’t help but stare at the beautifully rendered image of Luffy and the gang that’s printed on it.

Pedro’s mouth falls open involuntarily. It’s One Piece. _Shouyou_ reads _One Piece_. Pedro may have to completely reassess his opinions on the guy, because anyone with such taste can’t possibly be that bad after all.

It’s only then that Shouyou’s question finally registers in Pedro’s mind, making him pause. His… favorite? Deep in thought, he raises his hand to his chin, then brings it back down, and then curls it into a fist.

“How can I choose just one?” he wails, dissolving into impassioned rambles. He loves Luffy, of course, but then how on earth can he possibly cast aside any of the other amazing characters in this series? It’s just impossible to comprehend.

Thankfully, Shouyou seems to understand the gravity of what he just asked. “Sorry,” he sheepishly mumbles, “That was a bad question.”

Then he pulls out two DVD boxes, shoving them in front of Pedro’s face. “I use these as teaching aids!” Shouyou says, beaming. Pedro sees the ‘English’ and ‘Portuguese’ labels first, and then the Dragon Ball title second. Something inside his heart soars.

“Um, I have the Portuguese Naruto and My Hero Academia anime,” he begins, in hesitant Japanese. “Do you want to watch?”

Shouyou practically sparkles. “Yeah!”

Pedro smiles, and when Shouyou comments that his Japanese is good, it doesn’t sound annoying or teasing at all.

Maybe getting to know his roommate won’t be so bad after all.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(3)** _

“You’re kidding me. This isn’t real.”

Oikawa can’t believe his luck. Or his misfortune, to be more specific.

When he left Japan, he knew it would be a long time before he would see a familiar face again. He’s on the other side of the world, playing in the Argentinian leagues and hanging out in Brazil with his team. By all accounts, he should be completely, one hundred percent alone, living it up in a town where barely anyone knows his name.

_So why on earth is Chibi-chan here?_

“The Grand King!” exclaims that little runt, equally shocked to see him. And wow, isn’t it weird to hear someone speak in his native tongue again?

Oikawa groans, face pinching in distaste. “No way, how is this even a thing?”

“Why are you in Brazil?” Chibi-chan asks, like it’s _Oikawa_ who’s not where he should be.

“I’m pretty sure that’s my line,” Oikawa scoffs. “What brings _you_ here?”

The kid has the audacity to grin. “I’m training on the beach!”

For one hot second, the gears in Oikawa’s mind stop turning. _Beach_ volleyball? What kind of indoor player even thinks about that?

“Man,” he sighs. “You’re scary, you know?”

And then the conversation moves on to his own life, and Oikawa may or may not admit to bragging. Just a little bit. In his defense, seeing the awe on the shorty’s face makes it all the sweeter, and he feels his ego swelling with each word of praise.

 _Yeah, that’s right,_ Oikawa thinks viciously. _I’m doing way better than you, so suck it!_

It’s only a little later when they’re back out on the beach that Oikawa is forced to rethink his original stance on beach volleyball.

“Urgh…” he groans, lifting his head from the sand. “This is definitely _not_ volleyball, what the hell?”

Chibi-chan just laughs at him, the little bastard.

But as their game progresses, it gets incredibly evident that beach volleyball is a whole new ballgame. The sand makes it hard to even jump normally, and don’t get him started on the god awful wind.

(“I swear I’m a pro player! It’s this stupid wind getting in the way!”)

At first, he can’t understand it really. Why would Chibi-chan throw away everything he’s built for himself in the court just to start over on the beach? Why would he willingly work on everything from scratch when he very well could have succeeded in going pro anyway, back at home?

“I don’t really mind so much,” says Chibi-chan when Oikawa asks. “Getting good at something new… I just find it really fun!”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. There’s no way this kid uprooted his whole life just for that.

Except… the more he plays with the shorty, the more Oikawa starts to understand what’s going on in his brain. Every night, Oikawa fails again and again, and it’s so frustrating but also… so freeing. He’s slipped up more times than he can count, but the sand is soft and welcoming, and it breaks his fall each time. Every match, he handles the ball even more than he usually does, and there’s a different sort of thrill when he knows he’s directly responsible for each point they score.

It reminds him of when he was a kid, so new to volleyball and yet so in love with it already. He remembers the starry-eyed wonder of it all, choosing to be a setter and turning that into his dream. He can’t believe he ever forgot what the sport really meant to him, under all the stress and pain and frustration.

But here, there’s none of that. There are no geniuses, no insane people who just get better and better with each passing minute. Outside, the only king on the court is nature itself, shaping the course of a match as it sees fit. It’s exhilarating, honestly. Beach volleyball is the breath of fresh air he didn’t know he needed, like a lightning bolt to his veins.

And that’s why, when he gets the chance, he bumps the ball and sends it straight to Chibi-chan’s path.

“Bwuh?” the kid sputters, getting in position for a set he seems absolutely unprepared for.

Oikawa does a spiker’s run up and lets himself be the one flying, for once. He takes a swing, and there’s something satisfying about the way his hand smacks into the ball, sending it just past the blocker’s reach.

When he lands, the shorty gives him a look, eyes wide as saucers and jaw falling to the floor.

There are a lot of things that Oikawa wants to say right now. _Thank you,_ his mind whispers. _Thank you for helping me remember why I’m doing this._

“Well, it’d be a waste not to try something new while we’re here!” he says instead, laughing along.

Thankfully, Chibi-chan doesn’t even seem to notice his slight pause, so it’s all good. He gives Oikawa some more praise that definitely fluffs up his pride a bit, and they win the game for the first time since they started playing.

Dinner is a lot more satisfying, that night.

Much later on, when Oikawa’s suitcase is all packed and he’s just about ready to head back to Argentina, he meets up with the kid one more time. They’re right in the middle of the sidewalk, and the hot sun makes his skin prickle underneath his shirt.

“Well, then,” he holds out a hand, “Take care of yourself, Chibi-chan…”

Then Oikawa pauses, considering. “No, _Shouyou,_ ” he insists, smiling languidly.

The name brings stars to Shouyou’s eyes, and he bursts into exclamations of gratitude. Oikawa thinks he might actually miss this kid, just a little bit.

Then right at that moment, Shouyou pulls out his phone, holding it out in front of Oikawa’s face and flashing a picture of… 

“Why did you save that?” Oikawa cries, making a desperate swipe at the screen. There, in all its pixelated glory, is an absolutely _horrible_ photo of himself, face down on the sand and limbs splayed in awkward angles, from back in their first day of beach volleyball together. “Delete that now you little—!”

Shouyou laughs, running away to keep the phone just out of his reach. “Bye, Oikawa-san!”

Okay, so maybe Oikawa still hates him after all. Just a little bit.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(4)** _

It’s eleven at night when Kenma gets the call. He takes one look at the contact name flashing on his screen and slides the green button to accept it.

 _“Kenma!”_ cries Shouyou through Kenma’s headset. _“How are you doing?”_

Kenma smiles to himself, leaning back in his chair. “I’m fine.”

 _“Oh, wait isn’t it super late there? I’m not keeping you up, am I?”_ Shouyou asks worriedly.

Kenma can’t help but snort. The idea that Shouyou considers anything earlier than three A.M. as ‘super late’ is cute, but terribly misguided.

“Nah, I’m editing tomorrow’s upload so it’s fine,” he replies, looking back at the video editor on his desktop screen. This particular game was a two-player, so he had recruited Kuroo to help him out last weekend. Of course, because it’s _Kuroo,_ Kenma now has to edit out all the unnecessary personal information that he had let slip while playing.

…Kenma has a very long night ahead of him.

 _“Ooh, I’m excited to see it!”_ Shouyou says, enthusiasm evident even through the phone. _“Text me as soon as it’s up!”_

It all just reeks of small talk, so Kenma decides to get straight to the point. “Why did you call me, anyway?”

Shouyou laughs. _“Er, I just wanted to talk to someone. That’s all!”_

Kenma hums and crops out a whole section of audio. “We talked two days ago, though.”

_“Oh wait, really?”_

“And you usually only call when it’s morning for you because of the timezones,” Kenma points out.

_“Ah, well, I guess I’m just forgetful today!”_

“Shouyou.”

Meekly, his friend replies, _“Yes?”_

“Just tell me what’s bothering you,” Kenma sighs.

There’s a moment of silence over the line. Faintly, Kenma hears the sounds of crashing waves and chattering people, and he figures Shouyou must be at the beach again.

Finally, Shouyou speaks up. _“Can I ask you something?”_

“Hm?”

_“Do you think I made the right decision? Going here, I mean.”_

Kenma frowns, hand stalling over his mouse. Quickly, he saves his work and closes the editor window, giving his full attention to the call.

“What brought this on?” he questions.

 _“I dunno, I guess it just took me this long to really process everything,”_ Shouyou mumbles. _“‘Cause, like, before I was just riding on adrenaline and everything was super-duper exciting!”_

“And it isn’t anymore?” Kenma is very confused. Judging by the way Shouyou had been talking lately, it hadn’t seemed like anything was wrong.

_“No, no, it’s not that! Brazil is still super awesome.”_

“So what’s the problem, then?”

 _“I guess… now that I’m settling in and all, I kinda just realized how hard it is to play in the really big beach volleyball tournaments,”_ Shouyou admits softly.

“Huh? I thought you said you were already playing, though.”

 _“Well, yeah I am! But like, mostly just small games and informal matches. And don’t get me wrong, those are super fun too!”_ Shouyou lets out a deep breath that crackles through the speakers. _“It’s just that… well, I can’t really get the kind of practice I need without making it to the big leagues.”_

“So why don’t you just go up to some players and ask? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing this whole time?”

_“I tried! And even if people wanna play with me, they just don’t wanna risk losing their sponsors by pairing up with a nobody.”_

“Sponsors?” Kenma asks, tilting his head slightly.

 _“Oh yeah, ‘cause players are sponsored individually since the teams change, like, super often. And that’s cool and all, but because of that the sponsors get a lot of say over team-ups,”_ explains Shouyou.

“So basically,” Kenma summarizes, “You can’t get into a proper team because you don’t have a sponsor and people can’t really trust you without one.”

 _“Yeah. I get why, but it’s just so… wah!”_ Shouyou exclaims, the frustration evident in his tone. _“Earlier today I asked like, five people, but as soon as they found out I had no sponsors they backed out.”_

“Is it that hard to find a sponsor on your own?”

 _“Kinda, yeah. Especially ‘cause I’m a foreigner and all the local companies aren’t really interested in me,”_ Shouyou complains.

“I see,” Kenma says, pursing his lips.

It’s almost… unimaginable, to think that _Shouyou_ has run into a problem he can’t solve just by charming everyone around him. Between the two of them, it’s always Shouyou chasing things head-on while Kenma watches from the sidelines. And yet now…

Kenma looks around his room, taking in his gaming set-up, his consoles, his multiple monitors, and even his _actual_ arcade machines. He likes where his life is now, though he never would have imagined it.

He thinks Shouyou should have a good life, too.

“Why don’t _I_ sponsor you, then?” he suggests.

 _“Wait, what?”_ Shouyou asks. Kenma can almost see the bewildered impression he’s surely making right now. _“That’s super-duper cool of you to offer, but you don’t have to—”_

“Nah, I want to,” Kenma interrupts. “Anyway, when you become super famous, it’s going to give Bouncing Ball a major popularity boost.”

 _“Really?”_ Shouyou cries, his voice incredibly watery. _“Thank you so so much, Kenma! You’re the best!”_

Kenma smiles. “Just do your best out there, alright?”

_“I will!”_

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(5)** _

**__** _“We’re coming in live from the beach volleyball cup finals in Rio de Janeiro! Today’s matchup is between…”_

Rubens Romero grimaces, letting the noise from the living room television fade away into the background while he fiddles with his latest video game.

 _Ugh, volleyball again?_ he thinks, smashing the controls on his handheld a little too hard. He gets enough of that talk from his dad.

It’s not that he hates volleyball, really. It would be kind of hard to do that in his household, considering how his dad is a world-famous player and that’s super cool and all.

But it’s _because_ of volleyball that his dad is about to go all the way on the other side of the world next year to play for some random Japanese team instead of being _at home with his family._

Rubens growls, button-mashing a combo move that K.O.’s the boss in his game. The victory screen is satisfying for maybe five seconds, until the credits start rolling and he realizes he has nothing left to do again.

He sighs, setting down his handheld on the seat beside him. It’s days like this when he misses his dad even more than usual.

Despite all the volleyball stuff, Rubens still loves his dad a lot. And he gets why his dad has to be away from home, _really._ His dad absolutely loves the sport and Rubens wouldn’t take that away from him.

It’s just that… well, sometimes he just wants his dad to be around more, alright?

As he gets lost in his thoughts, his mom enters in from the kitchen, holding a fun-sized carton of juice.

“Oh, Rubens,” she sighs as soon as she seeks him sulking on the couch, “Did you finish your game already? We just bought that last week.”

“I’m so bored!” he whines, slumping down the cushions even further.

His mom clicks her tongue. “Why don’t you go out some more, then? Play with friends? Maybe you’ll even find a sport or something that you like,” she suggests.

“Ugh, no thanks.”

He’s tried playing sports before, but all of his attempts ended in disaster. He’s gone through football, basketball, and tennis, and each one just cemented his desire to never join a sports team ever. At some point, his dad even tried getting Rubens to play volleyball in a local kids’ training camp, but he kept falling on the court and bumping into his teammates and it just _sucked_. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself like that ever again. _Especially_ not in front of his pro player dad, who could do all those things in his sleep.

So, no thanks, sports just aren’t for him.

His mom lets out a deep breath. “Well, either way, you need to drink some juice, alright?”

Rubens takes the juice box from her absently, and she retreats back into the kitchen, shaking her head. He stabs the straw into the box with a satisfying pop, and it’s at that moment when he hears: _“Look at him go! That’s Ninja Shouyou for you, with another point for his team!”_

Huh? Ninja?

The odd term makes Rubens blink, and he looks up to glance at the screen curiously.

The camera pans to show the whole width of the court, the sand bright under the cloudless sky as the players switch sides. According to the scoreboard, one of the teams is leading the other by a solid couple of points, enough that Rubens has to pause for a moment and take a closer look at the teams.

And he stares. On one of the teams, there’s this one short dude who looks _so_ out of place among his fellow players that Rubens snorts, watching the camera go closer up to follow him.

 _So that must the losing team,_ he thinks amusedly. _He must have gotten to the finals by sheer luck._

Because there’s absolutely no way that some foreigner guy who looks just barely taller than some of Rubens’ older friends can possibly win this thing, right? And unlike in the volleyball his dad plays, it’s impossible for this guy to hide his mistakes behind other teammates when there are only two of them on the court. Man, Rubens actually feels a little sorry for the guy’s teammate.

The opposite side begins the motions of a wicked serve, and Rubens prepares himself to watch as that short guy’s team gets absolutely creamed.

But then, the next thing he knows, Rubens is staring as that same dude brings the ball up in a perfect receive.

Was he always on that side of the court? Rubens could swear the guy was farther out earlier, but that can’t be right…

His teammate gets ready for a set, and then—

Rubens gapes. The guy jumps—wait, no, he _flies_ —several feet into the air, and Rubens might be imagining it but he _thinks_ he actually hears something when the guy kicks off from the sand, even though the camera is so far away.

That guy remains in mid-air for what seems like a short eternity, until his teammate sends him the ball and he finally gives it a solid hit. The other team can only watch as the ball buries itself into the sand behind them, unable to react in time.

_“And there it is again, folks! Ninja Shouyou is on fire today!”_

Rubens can’t help but stare as the camera does a close up on the guy’s smiling face, in the middle of a high five with his teammate.

He spends the rest of the match like that, on the edge of his seat each time Ninja Shouyou gets a hand on the ball. This man is _unstoppable,_ flying from end to end of the court with each rally like it’s nothing, and _still_ having the energy to leap so far above the ground and spike the ball with full strength. In the end, the game gets called fairly early, and Ninja Shouyou’s team wins in straight sets.

Even as the cable program transitions from sports into some sort of telenovela, Rubens finds that he can’t move from his seat, too stunned to even think about anything other than that force of nature he had just seen. His juice spills onto the floor, forgotten.

One day he’s going to meet Ninja Shouyou, and it’ll be the best day of his life. But for now, he’ll settle for scouring the entire internet in the hopes of finding more videos of that crazy awesome dude, and then rewatching _those_ over and over again.

And also…

“Hey, mom?” he calls out excitedly, hoping his voice reaches the kitchen. “I take back what I said earlier. I wanna learn beach volleyball!”

Just wait till his dad hears about this!

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(6)** _

“So, Shouyou’s really gone, huh?” Nice sighs, leaning against Heitor on their sofa.

The kid has been gone for all of a few hours, and she already finds their lives a little too empty. They had sent him off in the airport earlier, and even though she hadn’t known him for so long, the sight of his retreating back felt incredibly bittersweet to Nice.

Heitor just nods solemnly. “I’m really gonna miss that kid, y’know?”

“Yeah,” agrees Nice, bringing up her legs. “I think he’s the best partner you’ve ever had.”

“Well, he’s _the_ Ninja Shouyou—”

“I’m not talking about his skills,” Nice amends, tilting back her head to look at him. “It’s like, every time you played volleyball before it seemed like such a chore for you.”

Heitor pauses. “Ah,” he sighs, smiling slightly. “That’s true. But for Shouyou it’s just not like that, and he genuinely loves what he’s doing. And that was pretty contagious.”

“These past couple of matches… you were really having fun, weren’t you?” Nice asks, softly.

She enjoyed it, actually, seeing her then-boyfriend so pumped up for once. It reminded her of why she loves him so much, all the joy and pain and _passion_ that he was able to put into his career thanks to his new partner.

That’s why she asked to marry him, in the end.

Heitor nods, leaning against her. “It’s pretty sad that I have to find another guy to pair up with, now. But well, I always knew Shouyou was going to leave anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Way back, when we were just starting out, he told me he came here alone just a year after he graduated from high school,” Heitor explains, snaking one arm around Nice’s shoulders.

“What?” she exclaims, eyes wide. “That’s crazy!”

“That’s exactly what _I_ said,” Heitor laughs. “But he said he thought he needed to learn beach volleyball so he can strengthen his skills and all.”

“Oh, I guess there wouldn’t be a lot of that in Japan,” Nice muses.

“It’s just kind of a shame. He’s so amazing in beach volleyball, and he really could’ve gone big here if he chose to stay instead.”

Nice stills, an idea forming in her mind. “Hey, wait, so if he was an indoor player, does that mean we might be able to find his old matches online?”

“Uh, I’m not sure actually. I mean, he _was_ just a high school student, but maybe there are some clips from a tournament or something, assuming he made it there,” Heitor says.

She sits up, pulling out her phone from her pocket and typing quickly. After a couple of minutes, she turns back to him. “I found something! According to Google Translate, it says, ‘Karasuno High School freak quick compilation’?”

Heitor makes a face. “That sounds kind of weird.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s his name on the description, though.”

Nice plays the video, waiting a few seconds for it to load. Curiously, Heitor scoots over so he can watch over her shoulder. As soon as it finishes buffering, a stream of Japanese commentary comes from the speakers, and both Heitor and Nice gasp when they see the screen.

“Look at that hair! There’s no way that isn’t Shouyou!” Nice crows in delight.

They watch as one of Shouyou’s teammates receives a particularly nasty spike, cleanly sending it to the setter. Off to the side, Shouyou begins his run-up and jumps, arm ready for a swing.

Heitor’s brow furrows. “Wait, isn’t it too early for—”

The ball flies from the setter’s hands to Shouyou’s waiting palm, landing on the other side of the court with a resounding _smack._

Nice pauses the video, turning to meet Heitor’s wide eyes.

“What was _that?_ ” she says incredulously.

“I… have no clue. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” he admits, still reeling from the shock.

Together, they resume the video and watch as Shouyou matches up with that setter over and over again in different matches, perfectly executing that insane move each time. No matter where they are on the court, no matter who they’re facing, Shouyou gets past the blockers and sends the ball rocketing to the ground.

When the video ends, Nice brings down her phone slowly. “You know what, if that’s how he was playing in _high school,_ I think Shouyou’s going to do just fine in the pro leagues. Especially after all the training he’s done here.”

She was honestly kind of worried for him before, but it seems like she never needed to be in the first place.

Heitor grins, wide and bright. “Those guys won’t know what hit ‘em.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(7)** _

“Say, we’re holding tryouts today, ain’t we?” says Miya Atsumu, before taking a swig from his sports bottle. He brings it down with a satisfied sigh, then sets it down beside the towels on the bench.

The Black Jackals’ captain, Meian, looks up from his stretching and nods. “Yeah, in the other gym.”

Atsumu grins. “Do ya think we’ll find anyone good?”

“I highly doubt it,” Sakusa cuts in. “Probably just a few high school graduates, at best.”

“Aw, don’t be such a sourpuss, Omi-kun! What if there’s someone out there that’s just perfect for our team?” Atsumu suggests, and then he smirks. “Or what if there’s someone out there who’s gonna replace ya?”

Sakusa looks at him flatly as he wipes his sweat with a towel. “Please stop with the nonsense.”

Just then, another figure comes running in from the court, shouting, “Hey, hey, hey!”

“Man, how’d ya get all that energy?” Atsumu groans, rolling back his shoulders. “We literally just finished our drills.”

Bokuto ignores him and asks, “What were you guys talking about?”

“Miya’s just curious about our tryouts,” Meian explains.

Bokuto gasps, eyebrows raising as he surges forward to grab Meian by the biceps. “We’re having tryouts?”

Meian blinks, shifting out of his grip. “Uh, yeah. That’s why Coach isn’t here right now.”

“Ohoho!” Bokuto exclaims. “Why don’t we go watch, then?”

“Maybe because we have _practice_ to worry about?” Sakusa points out, deadpan.

“We’re on break anyway!” Atsumu argues. “Can’t we go check ‘em out for a little while?”

“Yeah! We’ll be back before you know it!” Bokuto adds excitedly.

Sakusa sighs. “Just because the coach isn’t here doesn’t mean—”

“It’s alright,” interrupts Meian. He turns to Atsumu and Bokuto with a stern smile and says, “You can go, but be back in twenty minutes.”

“Yes!” Bokuto cries. “Thanks, Captain!”

He slips off his shoes and runs out the door, Atsumu hot on his heels. Behind them, Sakusa shakes his head in exasperation.

“Miya,” Meian calls out just before they reach the door, “Keep an eye on him!”

Atsumu turns to give him a cheeky grin. “Will do, Cap!” he salutes, and the gym doors swing shut behind him. Then, he heads over to the second gym, almost sprinting just to keep up with Bokuto.

“Hey, slow down, would ya!” Atsumu shouts breathlessly, clutching his volleyball shoes in one hand. “Ya didn’t even stop to let us get our outdoor shoes!”

“But we only have twenty minutes!” Bokuto whines, but dutifully lowers his pace a little.

“And that’s plenty.”

As they near the other gym, they can already hear rubber shoes squeaking across the floor. Grinning, Bokuto slams the doors open with a flourish.

Atsumu shushes him furiously. “Do ya _want_ Coach to find out we’re skipping practice?”

“I can’t help it!” Bokuto says, bouncing on his heels. “I just know we’ll see something good here!”

“Well, anyway, just stay here by the entrance. At least we’ll be out of the coach’s sight.”

They move to the side of the wall, slipping their shoes back on just as a high-pitched whistle blows throughout the gym.

“Alright, five minutes!” their coach calls out. Immediately, all the players on the court slump down, clutching their thighs in desperation.

All, that is, except one.

Atsumu squints, trying to make out the figure from this distance. “Wait a damn second, doesn’t that hair look familiar?”

Bokuto follows his line of sight only to gasp dramatically. “Is that you, my disciple?” he shouts, loud enough for the entire room to hear. As every head turns to look in their direction, the figure waves wildly.

“Bokuto-san!” Hinata Shouyou shouts back, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oi, Bokuto, Miya!” their coach calls out, a dangerous glare on his face. “Why aren’t you practicing?”

Atsumu’s eye twitches. “Well, ya see—”

“I thought you were all the way in Brazil!” Bokuto cries, running straight to Hinata with his palms raised.

“I’m here to stay now!” Hinata laughs, giving him a high-five.

Everyone else in the gym watches the interaction curiously. From the side of the bench, Coach pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t care _how_ you two know each other, you’re disrupting our tryouts!”

“Wait, wait, wait! You mean to say you’re gonna be our new teammate?” Bokuto gasps.

“Maybe,” Hinata shrugs, still smiling. “Maybe not.”

At this, Atsumu’s eyes narrow. He stalks forward to the court, grunting, “Wait a minute, whaddya mean ‘maybe not’?”

“The tryouts are still _ongoing,_ Miya,” his coach cuts in, shooting him a stern look.

“No way, I promised myself I’d toss to this guy one day!” Atsumu says, jerking a thumb in Hinata’s direction. “Ya better get him for our team, or else someone else is going to snap him up!”

“Be that as it may, I still need to assess each person’s skills before I can make any final decisions—”

“Screw that!” Atsumu says, turning to Hinata. “Hey kid, wanna hit a quick? 

Hinata’s wide eyes sparkle, and he shakes like an enthusiastic puppy. “The one that goes like zoom and bwah?”

Atsumu smirks. “Ya haven’t done anything like _that_ in years, have ya?”

“Nope!”

Atsumu grins, looking back at his coach. “So, will ya let me toss to him? Just this once, I swear ya won’t regret it.”

“Yeah, let them try it!” Bokuto begs, popping up beside him.

Coach sighs, shutting his eyes. “Fine. But after, the both of you are going _right_ back to the main gym and doing diving receives for the rest of the day.”

“Alright!” Bokuto shouts, pumping up a fist. “Good luck, Hinata!”

Atsumu turns to the mass of hopeful players sprawled out on the court and frowns. “What’re ya all looking at? We need the court, so scram!”

The players scramble up, rushing to the sidelines at a remarkable speed.

Atsumu shrugs off his team jacket as Hinata bounces on the court, stretching his joints. He grabs a volleyball from the floor and strides over with a grin.

“Are ya ready to blow their minds?”

Hinata stands up, his expression hard and determined. “Yeah!”

Atsumu smirks, passing the ball to Bokuto on the side. “Gimme a good toss, alright?”

Bokuto nods, beaming. Atsumu settles into his position, holding his hands up.

“Ya good?” he shouts out.

Hinata shifts his weight from leg to leg, bending slightly at the knees. “Bring it!”

Bokuto tosses the ball to Atsumu’s waiting hands, and Hinata begins his run-up. Just as the ball’s about to reach Atsumu’s hands, Hinata stops, putting all of his momentum into a jump that makes the whole room break out in awestruck murmurs. The sound he makes when he kicks off from the floor echoes through the room, loud and heavy.

 _Damn, it’s gotten even higher,_ Atsumu thinks, grinning like a madman.

Hinata _soars,_ holding a perfect form in midair for longer than it should be possible. Atsumu sends the ball right into the path of his arm, pinpointing the exact apex of Hinata’s swing. The ball meets the spiker’s hand for just a second, and then Hinata smacks it straight into the other side of the court with a powerful force that he definitely never had before.

There’s a silence in the gym as Hinata lands, broken only by the sound of his sneakers hitting the floor. And then—

“Woohoo!” Bokuto hollers, jumping up and down. “It’s the freak attack, pro version!”

“Uwoh!” Hinata cries, turning to Atsumu with a delighted expression, eyes bright and lips stretched into a wide smile.

“Man, I’ve missed that!” Atsumu chortles, holding out a fist. “Yer even better than ‘Samu!”

Hinata bumps it with his own fist, still shivering with excitement. “That was _so_ cool! I went like pwah, and you went gwah, and then the ball was like _bam—_!”

Atsumu laughs. “Well, Shouyou-kun, I think it’s safe to say we’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.”

Man, this season just got a _whole_ lot more interesting.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(8)** _

Daichi’s the one who finds out first, among their friends. It’s his lunch break at work, and he’s scrolling through Instagram when he sees a new post pop up in his feed.

 _‘First day at MSBY Black Jackals!’_ it reads, accompanied by a photo of Hinata grinning and making a peace sign in front of the team’s compound.

Daichi rubs his eyes, blinking a few times before he really processes what it means. Then his eyes go wide, and he rushes to open his group chat with Suga and Asahi, slamming a finger on the group call button.

His phone rings for a few seconds, during which Daichi feels like screaming. Then Suga picks up first, giving him a quick greeting.

_“What’s up, Daichi?”_

“Have you seen Hinata’s latest Instagram post?” Daichi says in a rush.

Suga pauses. _“No, why?”_

“Go open it right now!” Daichi pleads, clutching the edge of the table in front of him. “Just trust me!”

There’s a minute of silence, and then—

 _“Oh my god!”_ Suga cries out.

“He actually made it,” Daichi says, letting out an incredulous laugh. “I always knew it was going to happen, but seeing it in person is…”

Daichi shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. He feels like a proud father, watching his own kid go beyond his limits to play on the court of his dreams.

Just then, there’s a beep from his phone, and he looks down to see that Asahi has joined the call.

 _“Sorry, I had to finish something!”_ Asahi says in a rush. _“But is this about what Hinata just posted?”_

“Yeah,” Daichi replies, sighing in disbelief.

 _“Isn’t it awesome?”_ Suga cheers. _“I can’t believe he finally made it!”_

 _“I didn’t even know he was back in Japan,”_ Asahi admits sheepishly.

“Neither did I.”

 _“I heard from Yamaguchi that he got back maybe two, three weeks ago?”_ says Suga contemplatively.

“And he’s already on a team?” Daichi gapes. “That was fast.”

 _“I mean, it’s Hinata. He’s always been on a different level than the rest of us,”_ Asahi points out, _“Same as Kageyama.”_

 _“Ahhh, I feel like such an accomplished senpai!”_ Suga chimes in. _“Hey Daichi, remember when we first found them in the Karasuno gym?”_

Daichi chuckles, reminiscing. “You mean when we locked them out because neither of them understood a thing about teamwork?”

_“Yeah, that, and also when they knocked out the vice principal’s wig and it landed on your head!”_

Even if Suga can’t see it, Daichi glowers at his phone anyway. “I thought I told you never to speak of that again.”

Asahi sighs. _“I’m glad I wasn’t there to see it. Our vice principal was really scary.”_

“Yes, yes, anyway,” Daichi cuts in, “We should congratulate Hinata the next time we see each other.”

 _“Yeah, I’m really proud of him,”_ says Asahi. _“He always used to talk about wanting to be the ace, and now he’s actually a pro…”_

 _“Asahi, are you crying?”_ Suga teases.

_“Maybe a little.”_

“Heh, for once, I can’t really blame you,” Daichi says, looking back.

Hinata’s always been a problem child to him, but there was no denying that the kid had real skills. Daichi had always expected him to try for the pro leagues, so when he’d heard that Hinata was all the way in _Brazil,_ he had to do a double-take.

But Hinata’s back now, done with training and ready to take on the world. He’s so much more mature now than he was all those years ago, fifteen years old and willing to close his eyes in the middle of a spike.

There’s something incredibly heart-wrenching about it all, knowing that the kid who used to look up to him so much is now standing on a stage beyond anything Daichi’s ever dreamt of.

He smiles to himself, shaking off the thoughts as he turns his attention back to his call. He and his friends spend a few more minutes like that, laughing as they relive their high school memories, up until Daichi hears his coworker call out, “Sawamura! Break’s almost over.”

“Alright!” he shouts back. To his phone, he says, “Sorry guys, I better get back to work.”

 _“Yeah, same here,”_ says Suga. _“Let’s meet up sometime, alright?”_

 _“I’d like that. It’s been a while since we all saw each other,”_ Asahi replies.

“Well, Hinata and Kageyama are bound to play each other eventually, and I’m sure there’s no way any of us is going to miss that,” Daichi assures them.

And months later, when news arrives that the Schweiden Adlers will be facing the MSBY Black Jackals with its newest member, Daichi just grins and blocks off his schedule.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(9)** _

When Izumi and Kouji get an invite from their childhood friend to watch his debut volleyball match, they’re quick to agree. Kamei Arena Sendai is pretty nearby, after all, and they’d love to support Hinata however they can.

But it’s only when they’re actually sitting inside the building that the gravity of the situation finally dawns on them.

“Oh my gosh,” says Izumi, mouth dropping open. “Little Shou-chan’s really in the V.League, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here, remember?” replies Kouji, rolling his eyes.

“No, but like, _he’s in the V.League,_ ” Izumi insists, grabbing Kouji’s shoulders.

Kouji sighs, smiling slightly. “It’s amazing that he actually managed to become a professional player. I still remember when we were all in middle school, and he’d pester us to toss balls for him every day.”

“And I remember that time in high school when we watched him in the prefectural finals right here!” Izumi exclaims.

“And now he’s in the top division in Japan,” Kouji marvels, leaning back in his seat. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

All of a sudden, Kouji grins, elbowing Izumi in the ribs. “Dude, do you still remember that rude guy we met during that volleyball tournament we were dragged into?”

“The one who became Hinata’s teammate?”

“Yeah, him,” Kouji nods. “I wonder what happened to him after all these years.”

“Maybe he also went pro?” Izumi suggests. “I’m not really updated with any team besides the Black Jackals.”

Kouji hums. “I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere, though.”

“Yeah, but I just can’t put my finger on it.” Izumi moves to pull out his phone and try searching it up, but he’s interrupted by a loud voice coming in from the overhead speakers.

_“Ladies and gentlemen…!”_

“Oh, nevermind, the match is about to begin!” Kouji says, jumping in his seat.

They watch as the Schweiden Adlers’ starting lineup gets introduced, and all the names are unfamiliar until—

_“Number Twenty! Kageyama Tobio!”_

Kouji starts, turning to Izumi with wide eyes. “Hold on, is that…?”

Izumi leans forward, trying his best to make out the player’s figure from this distance. “I think… he is!”

“So this is a rematch?” Kouji almost shouts, garnering a few irritated glares from the people around them.

Izumi grins. “This is what he’s been waiting for all these years, huh?”

Kouji laughs, covering his face with a hand in disbelief. “Man, am I ready to see that punk lose! It’s Hinata’s time to shine, now.”

And as soon as the match begins, Hinata does just that, bumping a monster serve from his own rival with terrifying ease. He runs back and forth across the court, attacking with all his might alongside the most insane players of his generation. Izumi and Kouji can only stare, too amazed at how far their old friend has come.

When the fourth set arrives all too soon, they’re both at the edges of their seats. Right as the Black Jackals reach their match point, Romero dinks the ball, sending it to the front of the court where nobody can touch it.

“C’mon, _c’mon—!_ ”

But Hinata is there, diving forward for the receive, and then he’s back on his feet and jumping for the spike.

He _flies,_ soaring higher and longer than ever before, going further than anyone thought he could go. And for a moment, Izumi and Kouji are transported to that summer day back in middle school, facing up against big players inside an even bigger gym. They remember Kitagawa Daiichi’s match point in the second set, Hinata’s immense determination to win matched by Kageyama’s fierce attempt to block, and they remember what it felt like to _lose,_ after all that.

“Hinata—!” Izumi says, gnawing at his bottom lip.

“Nononono,” Kouji mumbles, hands clenched into fists.

But today, when Hinata’s hit is blocked, it isn’t game over at all. He catches the ball with his heel, refusing to let go of the point. Izumi and Kouji watch, transfixed, as he runs past the whole width of the court to do the exact same slide hit he made before, all those years ago.

Kageyama can’t help but watch him too, so he’s a split-second too late to react when the finishing spike goes to Bokuto instead.

The ball lands on the other side of the court, the match whistle is blown, and Izumi and Kouji stand ramrod straight, clapping and cheering louder than they ever have before.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(+1)** _

Hinata closes his eyes, breathing in and out.

The smell of Air Salonpas wafts through his nose, filling his lungs like a balloon. The court is solid under his feet, and despite the insistent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, he feels unshakable.

Beside him, Kageyama gives the signal for their team’s next play, Sakusa nodding along. They move into position as Oikawa dribbles the volleyball on the other side of the net, readying himself for the opening serve.

 _I’m here,_ Hinata thinks, awestruck. _I can’t believe I’m actually here._

He clutches at his chest, fabric crumpling under his hand. The symbol of Japan’s national team rests squarely on the corner of his shirt, his _actual Olympics uniform_.

And as the crowd cheers, thousands of shouts echoing throughout the arena, Hinata finds himself standing under stadium lights that look even brighter than the sun, memories flashing behind his eyelids in snapshots and frames.

He thinks about that one spring, so many years ago. He remembers stopping his rickety old bike in front of an electronics store, watching a volleyball match where height didn’t have to mean strength. He remembers that feeling of inspiration, the slivers of a dream being born.

_Hey, are you watching me now?_

The referee’s whistle blows to start the game, and Hinata grins.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

_**(...1)** _

**__** _“Hey, Kageyama,” begins Hinata, a strange note to his voice, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”_

_Kageyama peers at him suspiciously. “Did you eat the pork bun I was saving for later?” he asks, clutching his lunchbox closer to his chest._

_Hinata groans. “Take me seriously for once, idiot!”_

_It’s a warm day late in the spring, and they’re sitting cross-legged on top of the school roof sometime in the middle of their second year of high school. Up in the sky, the clouds shift in the breeze, blanketing them in a comfortable shade as they eat their lunch._

_“Fine,” Kageyama grumbles, taking a loud sip out of his box of milk, “What is it?”_

_“You know how we’re starting to talk about our futures and stuff in class?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Hinata sighs, oddly serious. “I dunno, it just got me thinking about what I actually wanna do.”_

_“Ha? Aren’t you gonna go to the pro leagues, too?” Kageyama asks, like it’s a given._

_“Well, yeah, but to do that I have to get even better than I am now.”_

_“So… what are you saying?”_

_Hinata scrunches up his face, pointing a finger at Kageyama’s chest. “Don’t laugh, alright? I haven’t told anyone else about this yet.”_

_“Yeah, yeah,” Kageyama rolls his eyes, “Just spit it out, dummy.”_

_Hinata takes a deep breath, then says, “I want to train in beach volleyball.”_

_There’s a pause, a weighty kind of silence that makes Hinata’s heart drop straight down to his stomach._

_“Okay, I know it’s dumb and all, but can’t you at least say something—”_

_“No.”_

_Hinata blinks, stopping mid-ramble with wide eyes. “Huh?”_

_“I don’t really think it’s dumb,” Kageyama muses, tilting his head in contemplation. “If you think that’s gonna make you stronger, then why not?”_

_“You really think so?”_

_Kageyama shrugs. “It’s your life, so you might as well spend it how you like. There’s nothing wrong with that.”_

_“Oh,” Hinata breathes out, mouth parting open._

_“And then someday in the future, when you’re finally ready, I’ll be waiting for you on the national stage,” Kageyama finishes, sounding absolutely sure of himself._

_A cool breeze blows past them, and Hinata feels his hair swaying in the wind and his pulse throbbing in his veins. Kageyama flashes him a grin that doesn’t look horribly unnatural for once, the challenge hanging in the air like a promise._

_They’re young, still far too young to really know what the future holds, but Kageyama looks completely at ease with himself, raising one eyebrow as if he’s daring Hinata to say otherwise._

_Hinata smiles despite himself; he should’ve known they’d be alright._

_He stands up with a jump, spreading his arms wide and basking under the cloudy sky like a bird preparing for flight. And though his path remains uncertain, his final destination is as clear as day._

_“Just you wait!” Hinata faces Kageyama head-on, eyes glinting wildly in the light. “We’re going to take on the world!”_

**Author's Note:**

> I know some of these timelines are a little questionable but just let me have my fun please :')
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading my incredibly self-indulgent labor of love!
> 
> Please leave a kudos or a comment if you'd like to support me! And if you want to cry over Haikyuu!! with me (or just talk about anything at all), feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](https://kouzaires.tumblr.com/) or my brand-new [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kouzaires) and send a message!  
> 
> 
>   
> _(Sentimental ramblings ahead! It's finally time for the real tears.)_
> 
> When I was 13, my family went on a trip to Osaka. At the time, I knew almost nothing about anime and manga, and though my friends were recommending this series to me already, I didn't really have the motivation to start it. But on the very last day of that vacation, my cousins decided to go around a hobby store district, so I tagged along. It was in one such store that I came across a display of Haikyuu!!, with a small TV overhead playing the first anime opening on loop.
> 
> I was hooked. There was no music, but the animation looked so lovely and the characters were so uniquely drawn. As soon as I got back home, I looked for the anime and binged it in three days. Just a month later, I watched it all again from the very start.
> 
> Haikyuu!! was a major turning point for me, as my first foray into real Japanese media. Without it, I never would have discovered all the amazing anime and manga that I know now. And even more than that, it was the first major fandom that I consistently visited on AO3. I remember that when I was first reading these fics, there were less than 1,000 pages of works under the whole tag. Now, there are over 3,400 pages and counting. It's amazing for me to see how much the whole fandom has grown along with the story, and I wouldn't trade that experience for the world.
> 
> These past years with Haikyuu!! have been the most fulfilling and formative periods of my life. I grew up alongside it, and as the manga finally comes to a close, so does a chapter of my own personal story. From this moment on, I am moving forward into an existence beyond the highs and lows of Karasuno High School, beyond Hinata and Kageyama's beautiful rivalry and partnership. And even though I'm crying as I write this, I can't say I regret a single moment of it all.
> 
> Yes, the manga's run has ended, but the feelings in our hearts remain. There's no way I can ever truly let go of this story and these characters, and I'm sure many of you feel the exact same way. So I hope that the fandom continues to grow, and that it welcomes people new to the series with open arms. I hope that Haikyuu!! is able to live on among all of us, secure in the legacy that it has embedded upon this world.
> 
> Thank you so much, Furudate-sensei, for giving this lonely kid a place to belong between the pages of your life's work. Thank you, Haikyuu!!, for bringing out the best parts of me and making me into the person I am today.
> 
> Goodbye, Hinata. I'm proud that you were finally able to fly. I hope I can fly now, too.
> 
> From 2012–2020, we've witnessed the end of an era.


End file.
